


Lust at First Sight

by Secret_H



Series: These Things Do Happen [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Always Female Sam, F/M, Female Sam Wilson, First Meetings, First Time, Lust at First Sight, Mildly Dubious Consent, No Dialogue, Outdoor Sex, POV Alternating, POV Third Person Limited, PWP, Poorly written porn, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 12:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6853768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secret_H/pseuds/Secret_H
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all soul bonds are created equally.<br/>Sometimes you get a meet cute that you get to tell your children 10 years down the line. Sometimes you learn that a platonic relationship is not any less powerful than a romantic one. Sometimes you get fucked in a bathroom stall in the middle of a big meeting by a member of your competitive company and can never look your fellow coworkers in the eye again.<br/>Fortunately for Sam, that last one was not quite the situation she found herself in.<br/>Unfortunately, her soulmate is an assassin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lust at First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> So, still working on my porn, which is surprisingly het again for the second time in a row. So, not a lot of sex, and also, I moved Sam to New York. In this timeline, she went has not moved to Washington DC yet. I am going to assume it happens after The Hulk fucks everything up. I also have no idea about the layout Manhattan or how parks in general, or Central Park in particularly works.

In this world, everyone has a soulmate, probably more than one, and not all soulmates are the same. Sometimes it's been said to be like finding your other half. Sometimes it's like finding the type of best friend you would die for without hesitation. Sometimes you look into someone's eyes from across the street and know that if you could, you would spend every moment of the rest of your life fucking them.

To be honest, that last one is terribly inconvenient, especially if you don't find a secluded area fast enough. It is also, not in the least for the frequent instances where there is no bathroom available, somewhat looked down upon by society, but there Sam was, staring into the eyes of some random, (hot, so fucking hot,) guy across the club and being stared back at so hard it was a wonder she didn't combust right then and there. He was sitting at one of the semi circle booths all by himself, and she wondered what he had come there for. She hadn't even wanted to go out, but it was a once a year thing that the girls did at the VA office, and so she had felt obligated, for all that she had never been a clubber even before going to war. Clubs were just not how she liked to meet people. She was a meet-cute kind of gal; give her a chance meeting out jogging at 7:30 in the morning any day of the week. There were creeps, but at least they weren't overtly horny creeps.

Speaking of overtly horny, her soulmate was palming himself, legs wide open, and Sam crossed her legs to keep from touching herself. It was the first time she's worn a dress in quite possibly years, and she can't decide if the new matching bra and panties was serendipity or fate. Something told her that her soulmate wasn't really in the mood to appreciate it as much as he should, perhaps it was his incredibly blank face that was at odds with his intense gaze, but Sam knew she needed to get out of the club before she was ravaged by a stranger in front of all of her workmates. So she threw a hand full of cash for drinks down on the table they were sharing, and ignored their calls for her as she hurried for the door. They would probably come after her, but she could outrun them; the same could not be said for her soulmate, she somehow knew.

The Asset was on a mission. The setting, along with its clothing, was unfamiliar, but the mission was the same as always. It was there to kill, despite it being up close rather than with its sniper and in a louder, more crowded place than it was used to. It was not distracted by the noise and motion, it just took a bit more effort to keep track of all of the bodies and threats. There were not many, and most of the possible obstacles to his mission were centered at one table in particular. An all female military outing. Post military, but still early and connected enough to be aware of what was going on around them. Its target would be here for some time, well into the early morning, and it had no real time limit outside of before the closing of the establishment, so the Asset decided to wait out the body of veterans.

Sometime had passed before the asset realized that it had been spotted. It was in the line of sight of the female veterans, one of which he could see occasionally glance its way out of it's peripheral vision. It hadn't been conspicuous in anyway, so there was a chance that the woman was only look for a potential partner for sexual intercourse. While non-targets found its body aesthetically pleasing on the occasion, the Asset found that their interest waned when they met its gaze. The Asset, in an effort to make its disinterest clear, made sure to catch the woman's eyes the next time they turned its direction.

So their eyes met.

And the Asset realized that the woman belonged to him. He could see that she knew it, too, and he thought that the Asset perhaps belong to her as well. This was acceptable. Heat flowed through him, particularly through between his legs, and he used his flesh arm to palm at the hardness. The woman crossed her legs, and the Asset almost frowned, because that was the opposite of what she should be doing. He would simply have to show her. She looked away from him, and he watched as she stood, putting too much money down on the table, and leaving the establishment without her compatriots.

The Asset stood, moving towards the doorway without a thought to his mission. He stepped into the chilled air of the night, looked in the direction he could feel her though their fledging bond, and gave chase.

He catches her near Central Park. She has gotten farther than he had calculated that she might, taking off her shoes earlier in the chase, and sprinting as fast as her bare feet would take her. It was impressive, and he thought it wouldn't be hard to teach her to go even farther. For now, he drags her in to find a nice bench to fuck her on, and then moves them into the bushes when a security guard comes by. They fuck until she passes out mid-orgasm, and then he works her unconscious body, until he comes. Still seated in her, he searches her purse for her identification, and then her phone for her address. He's hard again by the time he thinks of a plan of action, and proceed to give her two more orgasm, (the first one she wakes up during, and she falls asleep after the second,) before coming in her again.

Putting her panties and dress back into place, he tucks himself away. He takes the time to remove all the trackers from his body, even digging his smallest blade into the junction between his shoulder and metal to shut off the tracker that would signal after 48 hours without maintenance until he could find someone to surgically remove it. The Asset knew that the work that he did was ultimately good, but he also knew that good Assets did not get to keep things, much less people.

He wanted to keep this woman, this Samantha Wilson, and that meant that he had to leave the organization. He was hard again, but only took the time to breathe in Samantha Wilson's smell under all the sex as he picked up her limp, exhausted body and proceeded to carry her to her apartment in Harlem.

Sam wakes up naked in her apartment, with her mattress under her and her soulmate over and inside of her. She doesn't stop to think about it, just wraps her legs around his hips, threads her fingers through his shoulder length hair, and enjoys the ride.

**Author's Note:**

> I may make a follow up, for the morning after, but now for some fic follow up.
> 
> I can't really say what I was thinking when I wrote this, because it was a while ago, but I like the idea of a W.Soldier thought process better than a Bucky one in the given situation. I think it made the whole sexual soulmates thing more interesting, because the whole idea of it seems almost like it would be something frivolous, but I imagine the it is just as strong and all encompassing as having a romantic or platonic soulmates. It could just as easily throw off years decades of brainwashing, maybe even more so, what with the immediate urge to consummate it. 
> 
> In this world, where if you try hard enough, you could probably walk away from a romantic or platonic soulmate if you tried hard enough. A sexual one doesn't give you that choice, and the public instances are only ever stopped via outside sources, like family or the police physically dragging the pair apart.
> 
> I also imagine Steve would be Bucky's platonic soulmate, but all things the constant, it would not automatically break the brainwashing like meeting Sam did. A sexual soulmate has the added component of being physical, which would probably work better than a mental and/or emotional bonding on someone whose brain is regularly reorganized.


End file.
